The Truth
by TruffleWings
Summary: Klavier's perspective on the last part of Turnabout Succession. Oneshot.


A/N My first Phoenix Wright fanfic, and my first on my new account! As was insinuated in my previous sentence, I do have another account for other things, so I'm not really a newbie, by the way. Unfortunately, I was quite unhappy in how this turned out to be a near transcription of the trial of the last case in AJ, but I hope I've provided enough perspective to keep you guys hooked!

"Now here's a question," Apollo Justice said, kneading his forehead. "Just who was Shadi Enigmar's previous defense attorney?"

Klavier's heart dropped like a stone, smashing through the pit of his stomach. A sickening feeling rose into his throat, a bitter taste lingering in his mouth. Kristoph was silent at the witness stand, neither confirming nor denying the silent realization that permeated through the court.

"No… Th-this can't all be…" Klavier leaned against the bench for support—because no one was standing by him now, and the wounds of betrayal were ripped open once again, leaving him weak and disbelieving.

Apollo was unrelenting. "…But it is all true."

Klavier's world fell out of his grasp and he reeled with the vocalization of the truth. The truth which he had always sought, no matter how ugly. The truth that had torn his perfect reality into pieces when all those he loved and trusted were snatched away from him by selfishness and greed. Their own insatiable avarice. And still he persisted in seeking the truth. And now… now he was torn, once more, in two. As Herr Forehead made his stunning accusation, pointing determinately at his brother, he struggled to chase away the expression that rode on his face. He had long learned to hide his feelings and it was now, at this very moment, that calm, or at least the appearance of calm, was most needed.

The judge called for order as the court broke out in talk, demanding an explanation. Kristoph maintained an unruffled form and continued smiling in what Klavier would have once called pleasant. Now he was not so sure what decorated his brother's features.

"Let me begin by denying this—"

"Objection! It's easy enough to look up Mr Gavin," Apollo interjected. Kristoph paused, then resumed with the argument that the previous attorney would not have been registered in court records. Indeed, how _did_ Apollo intend to prove Wright's claim? Apparently he didn't. He couldn't.

The judge deemed the line of questioning null and void. A memory badgered Klavier like a stubborn itch that had never truly went away. His heart felt as though it was being squeezed and it would soon burst, leaving whatever life he had left spilling onto the courtroom's floor. He… he had to do something. Not only for the sake of the truth, but also for himself. To somehow find a release… his own brother was being accused _once again _by Apollo, and yet somehow Klavier thought he could be relieved when this nightmare was all over. No matter the verdict. Before his resolve could waver, he acted on his decision.

"Objection!" Klavier hammered the wall behind him, impatient and eager to vent. To somehow transfer his pain into the wood. "…Herr Forehead. Are you sure you don't have evidence…?" he asked, almost desperately. Surely, there _had_ to be…

Apollo seemed surprised as Trucy turned to whisper something to him.

"Evidence!" Klavier's mouth was twisted into a sort of sad, ironic smirk. "Evidence that shows this man, Kristoph Gavin, requested that forgery seven years ago!"

"Klavier…?" Kristoph's manner changed, becoming stern and more focused on his brother. Klavier didn't spare a glance at the other Gavin, staring instead at the defense attorney.

"Just… prove it!" he pleaded once more, falling back onto the desk. He didn't think he could bear any more… drama. Any more pain. "Clear up these doubts now, or I swear, I'm off this case!" It was the truth. Apollo looked as though he understood not only the message Klavier was trying to convey, but also his smarting hurt.

As the defense made a claim and the judge his opinion, Kristoph spoke. Klavier cut him off.

"Objection! Are you… telling the truth, Apollo Justice…?" Could he possibly be freed?

Apollo nodded. "…I am." Klavier felt a wisp of hope.

And a dollop of despair.

His own flesh and blood had murdered, not once, but multiple times, in cold blood. It couldn't be true… Before this thought could overrun his mind, Klavier spoke.

"Then… Then… I say we give him the benefit of the doubt!" He pointed decisively as though flinging away the doubts in his mind. Yet he knew he could not continue this façade for long.

The judge agreed with a large penalty waiting in the wings. And of course, Kristoph made full use of this chance to double it. Justice seemed unfazed… Klavier hoped he had the evidence.

Apollo produced… a _yellow envelope_.

Impossible.

Kristoph agreed with its improbable nature.

And the envelope was written by Wright. The court was filled with talk the moment Trucy informed the spiky-haired boy, and once again the sound of the gavel rang throughout the court. A smirk spread across Kristoph's face, and though it was confident, Klavier could spy some strain in his countenance.

"Ah, I see now. Yes, of course."

"What do you mean 'of course'?" the judge asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

The older Gavin proceeded to explain that Wright had been in his cell when he had been absent.

"Phoenix Wright…?" Mixed feelings churned in Klavier's gut as he struggled to keep a slight smile on his face.

Kristoph tilted his head and smiled back. "When I returned," he said, surveying Klavier's features. "I saw that he had something of mine in his possession. Of course, I had no intention of letting him get away with my private mail."

The prosecutor didn't know what to think as the judge expressed his surprise. This evidence was… important. Decisive, even. But Klavier knew how this line of inquiry would end.

As Apollo explained the reproduction Wright had created and the hidden video camera, Klavier saw Kristoph's features slowly breaking out of his regular composure.

Herr Forehead had struck a nerve.

Kristoph looked to the side with an ugly expression and made to brush his bangs from his face. "R-Regardless," he said, facing the court once more with a strained smirk. "This mockery of a piece of evidence will never be accepted by the court."

The business with the envelope was going exactly as Klavier had thought it would. With the replicator of the evidence a former lawyer, disbarred for _forging evidence_, there was no way it would be accepted as legitimate evidence if someone raised an objection, as Kristoph had.

"Hmm," the judge pondered in response to the blue-clad man. "Prosecutor Gavin?"

Klavier clenched his fist in anger and confusion, and despite his best efforts, his calm slid off of his face. _Don't… don't lose control._ He set his jaw, unable to speak and remained silent, his internal struggle plain on his features.

Seeing this, Justice spoke tentatively. "Prosecutor… Gavin?" His stomach lurched at the surname.

Kristoph pushed his glasses up as they flashed. "As embarrassing as this is for me to say…" he started, and fixed the judge with a steady gaze. "…I'm afraid my brother is incapable of making rational judgments at the moment." It was true, but Klavier flinched back anyway. Seeing this, Kristoph turned his smile to his brother.

It was like looking into a mirror, a magic, dark mirror that showed, perhaps, what Klavier would become. A reflection not only of himself but of the truth—Kristoph now featured in his mind not as a caring, albeit ambiguous, brother that he hero-worshipped, but as a figure shrouded in dark and mystery, forever beyond Klavier's grasp.

"Your Honor." Kristoph tilted his head downward and fully focused his intense gaze at the judge once more. "…Your decision please."

And of course, Justice's claim was denied.

Inner demons clawed at Klavier's abdomen, leaving sharp, deep rakes in his flesh. As the defense grew shocked, outraged and the judge began to reconvene the trial, Klavier hardly knew what to do. Kristoph had shifted his attention back to the young prosecutor and the rock star prosecutor froze in his pleasant and concentrated stare. _Is that… really the face of a murderer? No. What I should be wondering is if that really is the face of my brother. _For Klavier's perception of Kristoph had grown so warped that his brother seemed to have been lost in the conflux.

"Better luck next time, Justice," Kristoph taunted, turning his attention now to the defense attorney, lifting his head. Gloating. Looking up ever so slightly to the ceiling—and yet, in the position, the light that fell onto his face lit all the wrong places, shadows creeping along sinisterly across his bones.

The judge slammed his worn gavel onto his desk. As he decided to end Kristoph's cross-examination, Klavier saw his brother look down and smile satisfyingly. No. Smirk smugly.

Trucy turned to the hapless Justice, bound by the confines of the law like a puppet on strings, perhaps to plead him to _do something_. But the defense attorney, judging by his expression plain on his face, could not.

"…Very well. This ends the special witness's cross examination," the judge concluded.

And somehow, somewhere in Klavier's tangled mind, under the dark depths of his sorrow and pain, beyond the reach of his undulating confusion, a spark that still sought the truth squirmed its way into his vocal cords.

"Objection!"

He was suddenly the focus of a thousand eyes.

_Just like a concert._

He began snapping to the beat of Guilty Love, and still thinking about rock concerts, said, "…The show's over, yet the crowd screams for more." Ever since Kristoph's arrival, he had been more professional than ever, tense. But now something had changed, and ignited a spark that flew into a fire. He adopted his usual attitude. "Only now do I understand why." The words were good cover for concealing his turmoil of emotions.

"Prosecutor Gavin?" Even the judge seemed to notice his change in attitude.

"Frankly, I'm relieved," he admitted. Strangely, he _was_ relieved. "This has been bothering me for seven whole years." He went back to snapping.

"And I'm tired of the whole youthful angst scene." That's right, now was the time for the cool cover of the prosecutor by day, rocker by night, Klavier Gavin. The knot in his stomach, and the hideous trial he was forced to endure was getting… old. It was too much. It was tiresome.

"…Now's our chance." Klavier leaned forward, as though ready to face the truth and stiffening his determination with a smile. "Let's clean out the family closet, eh, Kristoph?"

His brother's expression turned dark in an instant. "Klavier… You're spinning out of control. Calm yourself before you say something you'll regret."

The dark hints in his statement combined with the familiar, firm tone made Klavier falter for an instant. Then he was back on his feet, denial and pain overshadowed by anger.

"Spinning out of whose control? Mine?" He smiled and Kristoph turned wary. "…Or yours?"

"Take a moment to consider everything you've built." Kristoph's tone was mesmerizing. "Your reputation as a prosecutor…your fame with the masses," he added as an afterthought.

"You could lose it all, Klavier." He now adopted the elder brother attitude. Klavier tried to ignore him.

He only sought for the truth. Not love, not care, the truth and only the cold harsh truth. He didn't need attention, he didn't need acknowledgement. Heck, if his other friends were like Daryan, he didn't need them either! And if he had a chance to patch it up with Kristoph, a fool he would be to take it!

Klavier was rather proud of his lying to himself.

Feeling the need to give his loud opinion, Justice spoke, "Prosecutor Gavin!" He slammed the defense's bench. "Try to remember… what's really important to you!" A pointing finger punctuated the end.

Herr Forehead's loud and ringing shout pierced through any doubts he had, and for a moment he saw, with perfect clarity, his true objective. Saw what to do, and what was right.

Klavier almost chuckled. "You amuse me, Herr Forehead." He resumed his snapping. "I couldn't forget what important to me," he continued, leaning forward. "Even if I tried."

Even when he was clouded by darkness, even when he was direly tempted, even when the pain ached the most, no matter how small, the voice of truth would echo through his head. And that was what was most important to him.

"…!"

"In fact, I haven't. Not even once," he said easily. And it wasn't entirely a lie. The truth had urged him on in his darkest times.

He had thought he'd been finding the truth the day of _that _trial too.

As he talked with Justice about the trial, he had been reliving the day in his mind. His first trial, when he had been meant to battle with his brother on opposite sides of the courtroom.

And then, the day before, his brother paid him a visit.

"…_Klavier."_

"_Kristoph…? Odd seeing you at the prosecutor's office the day before the trial." In truth, though puzzled, he was delighted to see his revered brother drop by._

"_Ah… I won't be appearing in the trial, actually." Klavier stopped strumming his guitar. He could've sworn that a shadow crossed the elder Gavin's normally composed face._

"_Huh? Why not…?" Disappointed, he sounded almost like he was eight once more._

"_I won't be facing off with you on your first trial, apparently," Kristoph said vaguely. "…But in exchange, I brought information."_

"_Information…?" Klavier felt strangely wary. What was this all about?_

"_The attorney who'll be there in my place tomorrow is not to be trusted. Don't give him even the benefit of your respect. Listen…" Klavier paid closer attention to his brother's next words obediently. "I want you to call in a special witness. Then…"_

Klavier was brought back to the present as Justice made a realization. "…Correct," he affirmed. As he explained, Kristoph suddenly spoke with… venom.

"Don't do this, Klavier."

Unheeding, the prosecutor pressed on, hitting the wooden wall behind him with a fist. The truth was the priority here.

"I knew because you told me, Kristoph!"

The defense's response to the revelation: "Wh… Whaaaaaaaaaaat!?"

A cacophony of voices filled the court, and on each face was an expression of disgust or pure shock. Klavier began to describe the night prior to the trial, where Kristoph informed him of his absence at the trial, to the petrified occupants of the court.

"…I wondered about it at the time," he said, leaning forward and smiling a little more easily. " 'How did Kristoph know so much?'" He had always known an abnormal number of facts. It had nagged at Klavier at the time, but he had no reason to doubt Kristoph or second-guess his beloved brother. Or so he thought. Perhaps, if he had looked into it more deeply… perhaps he might have been able to see the truth.

With a sudden burst of anger, Klavier hit the wall behind him. "…Kristoph!" he accused, his eyes half-lidded and with a smile. In this angle, Kristoph looked more like him than ever. "We were supposed to face each other in that trial! A fair fight, brother to brother! I deserved that much!" Kristoph, he realized, had never planned to fight fair, in a spar of wits and evidence. Untainted evidence. From the start, he had planned to pull the wool over Klavier's eyes, win the trial and gain fame. And use the forged evidence against the prosecution… his own brother.

"You let me borrow the victim's belongings…" he shouted. "…You showed me all your research on the case!" Anything to bring down Wright.

Pushing up his glasses with an unfathomable expression on his face, Kristoph did not respond, and Klavier felt more furious and dwarfed than ever. Was he not deserving of an explanation?

"Mr Gavin…?" the judge said, and Klavier looked up, wondering if his anger was so plain on his face that even the old man could see it from his high chair. Of course, the judge was actually addressing the man on the witness stand. Realizing this, the prosecutor turned his attention back to Kristoph.

"My, my, Klavier. You disappoint me." He smirked. "You find trees, yet miss the forest!" Klavier was speechless.

Luckily, Herr Forehead filled in the silence. "…You're the one missing the forest, Mr Gavin." Funny how he could look at his former mentor with such disgust, look at him with an unwavering gaze. Klavier felt almost weak.

"You can't sweep this under the rug. Not anymore," Klavier finally said, as Kristoph remained in silence. There was no way he was letting the truth slip away once more. No way he would let Kristoph get away with anything else. No matter what it took, no matter how many scars it would leave deep inside him, it was the truth which mattered the most. "Tell me what was going on behind that trial!"

"… …" Kristoph deliberated. "…Why not? I've achieved what I came here to do. I see no harm in a little reminiscing," he continued with a self-assured smile. Klavier felt a strange dread curling around his eagerness to finally know the truth.

"…Seven years ago… the day before the trial."

The German prosecutor listened in some kind of fascinated horror as Kristoph recounted that day so many years ago.

"…Oh, I'm not admitting to anything," Kristoph said in response to Justice. Of course. It wouldn't be that easy to crack him. "My point is…" He lowered his head, glasses flashing dangerously. "…these two men shamed me, and I could not forgive that. Phoenix Wright and Zak Gramarye both deserved what they got." His mouth twisted upwards into a derisive sneer.

"…So you asked Mr Misham to forge that evidence…" Justice started. "…so you could 'win'! But then, when you were dismissed as Zak Gramarye's attorney…" Klavier winced at the trite core of the matter. "…you used your forged evidence as a trap!"

"You fed me information about the forgery you made," Klavier continued, disgusted. "…Then you gave your dirty evidence to him!" _Would you stop at nothing to take revenge for such a small matter? Was fame all that important to you?_

Kristoph continued to deny. To deny everything. "It went perfectly," he said. Everything he had hoped (_but not carried out_) had come to pass.

"…Hah…" Klavier looked at the marble floor of the court. "…Ha ha ha…"

He could feel everyone's stares on him.

"Incredible. If I wasn't laughing… I'd weep."

"Prosecutor Gavin?" Klavier didn't care much for whoever said that. He was preoccupied with the vocalized revelations that he had a hand to creating. He was playing a part in his brother's downfall.

" 'Perfectly'…?" he mimicked his brother's last word, tone and all, without a fault. "You're mad, Kristoph." He looked up, uncaring if there were indeed tears streaking down his face and stared straight at the murderer. He hit the wood behind him. "Stop fooling yourself."

"What are you talking about, Klavier?"

"…Tell me, how did that trial end?"

"Cancelled… when the defendant vanished," the judge declared.

"Ah, I get it. So Kristoph," he said in an ugly tone. "…you've been living in fear for seven years!"

"…What…?"

Seeing where Klavier was going, Herr Forehead continued and told the court what his brother had been thinking. His careful, paranoid _stalking_, watching of those involved with _that case_. New revelations came to light: Zak Gramarye was the mysterious traveler Shadi Enigmar; following that, naturally came Kristoph's motive for murdering him. A motive Klavier had been trying to get out of him for months. Futilely, of course. The case came together, piece by piece, a complicated pattern that had been threaded apart by Kristoph in an attempt to hide its true form; attorney and prosecutor worked in tandem to re-stitch the embroidery that Kristoph had hid and torn apart by his clever lies.

"If you're finished…" Kristoph finally spoke and his glasses edge up the bridge of his nose. "…may I return to my cell now?"

It was in that moment that Klavier realized it.

"I'm not accustomed to standing for such long periods of time." Kristoph's customary smile was back on his face.

It was all futile. Unless Justice remembered. Klavier sighed. He would have to step in once again.

"Mr Gavin! Have you heard a single word we've said!?" On Apollo's features was an expression of disbelief and flabbergast.

"Oh, I listened quite closely to your little tale. Quite an entertaining piece of fiction."

"What…?" Herr Forehead _still_ didn't get it.

"…Klavier. Surely you understand."

Of course. _Better than you do._ "… …" He smiled. "We're back to the evidence. The lacking evidence. Nothing proves a link between him and the atroquinine that took Drew Misham's life.

"Objection!" Apollo proceeded to list a collection of easily deflected points.

"…Evidence is everything. There is nothing more." Kristoph grinned by the end of it, seeming to have thoroughly enjoyed himself. _Well, he's in for a surprise. _The judge agreed with Kristoph, and as the blond German replied, he directed a question to Klavier.

"Isn't that right, Klavier?" _He's doing this on purpose. He wants to see me squirm with the realization that I can't do anything. For the truth. He is very much mistaken._

"Unfortunately… yes, Kristoph. You're right," Klavier toyed with him for a moment before dealing the final blow. "…That is, you would've been right, until now."

"…What?" Kristoph directed a stern glare at Klavier.

"…Did the news not reached your desk in solitary?" It was almost amusing to watch Kristoph as the rock star delivered the news. Today was the trial by a new system.

The Jurist System.

"That's right!" Apollo finally remembered. "The Jurist System!" he shouted.

"Jurists, you say…?" Kristoph looked momentarily disgusted. Only an inkling of what other emotions and thoughts he would soon reveal.

Klavier couldn't bear to recall any more. Kristoph had broken. In his office, reliving the memories of that trial, he couldn't bear to remember how Kristoph's composure slipped… and a demon appeared. No, it revealed itself—it had always been there, hiding under the layers of calm.

He looked up at the ceiling, struggling to keep the tears within his control as he did that day. When Kristoph finally lost control, Klavier had as well.

Even as he glared at the oak, a tear had slipped from under his grasp but none had noticed it.

Even as he declared Kristoph obsolete, no one sensed the turmoil he was going through.

Even as Kristoph was taken away, there were none who knew, except perhaps Kristoph, how he had long lost any sense of the world, of time, of values, of law, of justice, of love, of pain…

But he had always held onto the truth.

A/N Whew! Finally done. That was quite long for me… and tiring after staring at the youtube video for… well, let's just say a very long time. Please review on your way out! CONSTRUCTIVE criticism appreciated.


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